


Jewel

by AstraKiseki



Category: Exalted
Genre: Dragonblooded, F/M, Fluff, Mortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstraKiseki/pseuds/AstraKiseki





	Jewel

The creak of distant wood, of the stairs made the woman's heart leap, scrambling to the small stand next to her pitiful bed. Her fingers curled around a fist-shaped bundle of cloth, rough burlap with a faint glitter of gold underneath, a hint of the precious, precious treasure hidden away. She stood up, biting her lip with excitement as the door opened smoothly, showing _him_.  
  
Taller than her, with nut-brown skin and black hair capping his head in short, tight curls, and ash gray eyes, always in pale creams and whites, splashes of red across his attire to accent his lithe, graceful frame, to swirl about him as he removed his cloak with a smirk, always the first thing to go before they did anything at all. She didn't know his name, nor he hers, but that was her lot, nothing but a simple streetwalker to vent frustrations on, but...  
  
Dragons if he wasn't more pleasant than most of the nobles who visited, always leaving something clever behind for her to sell, pretty little trinkets she had a hard time giving to a fence for the sake of a full belly for a few weeks on that alone, if she didn't seek out other company at all. And even with his quiet generosity, there were the tantalizing hints of... being someone she could have liked, if she wasn't a trollop or even if he wasn't a Dragon-blooded with fire in his eyes and warmth to his body.  
  
With shaking hands, she offered the small sachet to the Dynast. He tilted his head before taking it and pulling the drawstrings open, obviously surprised by her gesture, something a woman of the evening was supposed to be the recipient of, not the former. His pale, pale gray eyes widened, an intake of breath as he shoved his hand into the satchel to tenderly take out the sparkling, gently curved jewel from its rough disguise, a large topaz faceted to look as if it was a piece of a shell or a flower petal, a vibrant gold edged with a sunset ruby red. It had taken her months to find enough to purchase the overlooked treasure in a hobble shop, its owner somehow unaware of its value still canny enough to charge a pretty obol for it.  
  
There was silence, his eyes open in wonder before... that handsome, warm glow of childlike joy faded, like an ember being drowned in water. He clenched it hard, his face closed as his body went utterly rigid. "Are you aware that this is glass?"  
  
"W-what?" The girl blushed in anger, realizing she had been cheated, before her stomach dropped, covering her face in terror as she realized what position she was now in. She had heard of Dynastic rage, and how some girls had died in such fury. "Oh Dragons, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"  
  
The dark-skinned noble stepped forward, running his warm fingertips lightly down the curve of her cheek before curling his hand to cup her chin. "I'm not raising my voice. Yes, it's a cheap knock off of a missing petal of the fabled Sun Peony," She whimpered under his gentle touch, the sudden flare of heat in his grip betraying his anger more than shouting ever could have, "But it's an absurdly well-made one, even with it being colored Chiaroscuro glass, and ah..."  
  
The Dynast glanced away, the small smirk on his lips burning away into a very boyish, delighted smile. His hands slid past her chin, dancing across her shoulder down her back, then shoving her forward, flush against his whole frame, enveloping her in his familiar perfume of smoky incense and the undertone of musk, the heavenly warmth of his graceful frame and his arms smoothly wrapping around her. "You meant well, and knew exactly why I'd love it."  
  
Even as he spoke in his usual light-hearted tone, not a single note of anger marring his speech, his arms trembled as he embraced her, his face nuzzling the crown of her unwashed head. "Y-you aren't mad, milor-"  
  
"How can I be?" She could hear his answer whispered in her hair, squeezing her tight as a hand left a trail of delicious, wonderful fire down to her rear. "I already told you, your intentions were the best," the mortal could feel the heavy weight of his erection against her body as his fingers cupped her ass, "And you actually recognized what it was." A light chuckle rumbled across her temple as he knelt down slightly. "That in itself is impressive."  
  
"I-it's a local legend f-from my home, sir." The whore gulped as the Dynast kissed her stomach, swirling his tongue about her navel, any sort of butterflies being seared away by his fingertips lightly brushing away cloth, buttons and strings falling apart with each caress and lick. The last scrap of fabric on her, her underwear, was tugged away with his teeth before _she_ pushed him onto the pallet with a laugh, the thrill of being on top for a moment stolen as he flipped her over.  
  
"All because I forgive you," He spat away the lace in his mouth before staring down at her with a honest grin, their hands fumbling at his own clothes, "Doesn't mean you get to be on top." He allowed her to push away the cloth as he inclined his head to toy with the hardened peak of a breast. "If anything, it'd be a larger reason to simply submit, but that's an argument for another time, when I have nothing better to do with my mouth."  
  
It wasn't quite a surprise, the slow, sensual sex that happened afterward, but even then, it had seemed to become a game, a fight to see who would ride the other, with the Dynast gleefully toppling her every time, laughing the whole time, until finally, the two were a heap of sweaty limbs, softly panting in the dark of the room. The whore yawned, shutting her eyes as she stretched herself out, well aware she was going to be painfully, wonderfully sore the next day.  
  
She felt a delicate tap on her nose, his fingertips again, not his lips or tongue like the other times. A brown eye opened, trying not to smile at the sight of the Dragonblooded's awkward sweetness again as he rested on his arm, gazing into her eyes.  
  
"What _is_ your name?" He was still smiling in that odd, vaguely boyish, sincere way, gray eyes bright and curious. "Mine's Eustathios."  
  
"Megcara, sir." She reached up, scooting across the mattress to curl up against him.  
  
For a moment as she laid there, somewhere on the edge of sleep, she could feel Eustathios's frame tense, every muscle seeming to stiffen, but instead of interrupting her drifting into dreams, leaving her bed and retrieving his clothes as she had heard him do with other girls, he... relaxed, melting against her back and draping an arm across her waist with a warm sigh barely on the edge of her awareness, a voice in her ear. "Good night, Megcara."  
  
As she fell asleep, Megcara couldn't help but to smile, feeling just a little stronger, her fate a little brighter as she drifted away.


End file.
